


Last Christmas, This Christmas

by Amorous_Flammetta



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (2020)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Boss/Employee Relationship, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Feelings, First Christmas, Fluff and Smut, Holidays, Kissing, Lots of kissing, M/M, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Pet Names, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Shameless Smut, happy holidays!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:41:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28535304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amorous_Flammetta/pseuds/Amorous_Flammetta
Summary: Two Christmases, one year apart. A lot of things have changed for Dr. Robotnik and Agent Stone. A belated holiday fic that is comprised of roughly equal parts fluff and smut.
Relationships: Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik & Agent Stone, Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone
Comments: 14
Kudos: 44





	Last Christmas, This Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year, friends!  
> I really meant to get this one up before Xmas but... You know how the holidays are. I've finally managed to finish it - apologies that it is late, but maybe it can assuage the last of us who are still in the holiday spirit. 
> 
> Sordidly Yours,  
> Amorous Flammetta

“An awful lot’s changed in the last year, huh?” Agent Stone asked. 

“Mhmm,” Doctor Robotnik agreed. 

Stone smiled into his mug of mulled wine and thought back. 

This time last year he was sat on this same sofa, though by himself. He’d always enjoyed Christmas. Something about the cheery decorations, the seasonal baking, the general aura of goodwill scarcely masking the stress of it all. He enjoyed it. He looked forward to it every year - this year more so, as he actually had someone to spend it with. 

Last year, he’d prepped as he always had, plus a few little extras here and there. 

“Someone’s in the _spirit_ ,” Robotnik said, not sounding entirely enthused. 

“Hmm?” Stone asked, popping his head up from what he was doing. 

He saw that the Doctor was pointing to the tiny forest of bottle-brush trees on his desk. He’d found them in the bargain area of a local store and simply couldn’t say no to getting one in each size and color. A large pale pink one (about the size of a soda can), a medium silver one, a small pale blue one. Each one was powered by a little silver battery, lights twinkling softly between their little artificial boughs. 

“Oh, yeah. Those,” Stone said, feeling a little caught out, “Cute, huh? Kinda retro.” 

“Yes. _Cute_ ,” Robotnik said with an audible sneer. 

Stone laughed off his distaste at anything cheerful and spun in his chair to fetch a freshly printed page from his printer. He slid it across the table for the Doctor’s signature. 

“Not a big Christmas guy, Doctor?” Stone asked. 

They were on fairly comfortable footing now, and Stone could now get away with fairly innocuous lines of questioning if Robotnik were in a good mood. Today’s snippy climate definitely constituted as a “good” mood, by Robotnik standards. 

“That is correct, I am not,” he replied, grabbing a pen from his pocket. 

His eyes quickly whizzed down the page and he curtly signed it, sliding it back across the tabletop. 

“Sounds like someone got coal last year,” Stone said, taking up the paper. 

Robotnik was already halfway to the door. 

“Wouldn’t mind some coal,” he said as he swished out of the doorway, “It has its uses.” 

“Scrooge,” Stone said quietly, once he was well down the hall. 

Now, Agent Stone was a man of great restraint. He waited until two weeks before Christmas to bring his little trees into the office. His condo had already been decorated a week and a half before that. He’d decided to amp it up a little after their humorous exchange. He did so enjoy getting his employer’s goat over harmless little things. If nothing else, it kept the workday interesting. 

Two days later, he came in with a small pastel reindeer to place in his little bottle-brush forest. Then, the day after that, a little Santa Claus, rosy-cheeked and smiling. 

“ _Very_ festive, Agent,” Robotnik had said with a derisive sniff, leaving his office later that afternoon. 

Over the weekend, he plotted his next moves. 

Monday: door wreath. 

Tuesday: desk garland. 

Wednesday: doorknob sleigh bells. 

“Stone, this is completely out of hand,” Robotnik groused, moving his door back and forth, making the sleigh bells jingle their throaty jingle. 

The Doctor had just stopped by for an update on a scheduling conflict and was greeted by yet more decorations, much to his distaste. He simply did not understand the fascination. Of course, he wouldn't dream of stifling his assistant's enthusiasm by telling him _not_ to decorate his office. It seemed like a line that wasn't worth overstepping. What the Agent was doing was harmless. Mostly. 

“Doctor, c’mon!” Stone replied, “It’s Christmas!” 

"It is _not_ Christmas yet, Agent,” Robotnik corrected, “You’re a little early.” 

Stone gave him the next day off, so to speak. He refrained from bringing in any more decorations, as much as it pained him to do so. He did, however, return strong on Friday. It was time for Christmas music. 

Robotnik walked in to his office for something, finger raised, mouth open, ready to start. His arm immediately fell limp at his side upon hearing the familiar yuletide tune and he spun around and walked away without a word. 

“Doctor, no, come back!” Stone called, unable to hold his laughter over the strains of _Last Christmas._

“No!” Robotnik called from the hallway, “Never mind. Not worth it.” 

When Stone returned on Monday, he’d pinned a little artificial holly sprig to his lapel. It was tasteful enough. He’d caught the Doctor staring at it, but he never said anything. 

It was just a few days until Christmas, and Stone was in full holiday swing. Christmas music in his personal office. Sleigh bells on the door. Robotnik seemed to be taking all it in stride, other than his (in Stone’s opinion) adorable rebuffs. 

The night before Christmas eve, Stone set to work. He put on some music, rolled up his sleeves, tied on his apron, and began to bake. It was a tradition of his. Every year he baked gingerbread cookies and gave it out to those around him. One plate for the employee lounge at his condo. Little cellophane baggies tied neatly with ribbon on the doorsteps of the three other tenants on his floor. Some for himself, of course, to enjoy later with spiked eggnog or mulled wine. 

Of course, there would be a carefully wrapped parcel of gingerbread for one Doctor Robotnik, too. Their Christmas exchanges were always difficult for him. Like clockwork, every year the Doctor awkwardly handed over a fine bottle of whiskey with little fanfare. Stone usually gave him a bottle of wine in return, but it irked him internally. He didn’t know what the Doctor liked to drink, and he was a man of particular taste. He couldn’t very well give him an identical bottle of whiskey in exchange. That would just be tacky. 

He wanted to steer clear of material gifts, as well. If he needed it, Robotnik bought it or built it or modified ti to his exacting specifications. 

This year, the Agent figured he couldn’t go wrong with homemade gingerbread cookies. 

Of course, he’d invested in a new cookie cutter this year, too. In past years, it had been an assortment of people, dinosaurs, dogs, cats. This year there would be a small battalion of gingerbread robots, as well. 

Of course, the next natural question was hard gingerbread cookies or soft. Stone often made an assortment of crisp, thinner cookies, and chewy, thicker ones (particularly for his elderly neighbor). He guessed that Robotnik would probably lean toward a firmer cookie and went with it. 

Once all of the cookies were out and cooled, he packaged them up. Tagged bags for his neighbors and a platter with cellophane over top for the employee lounge. He thought a while, considering how to best package the cookies for his boss. 

In a moment of inspiration, he remembered that he had a square black tin floating around in the higher cabinets. Had chocolates originally come in it? He couldn’t remember. Loaded with a paper doily in the bottom and tied with a red bow, he felt like he’d selected the best option. 

On the morning of Christmas eve, Stone came into the office positively sparkling with effervescent holiday cheer. Under his black blazer, he wore a deep red turtleneck, a holly sprig pinned to his lapel again. He had a few Christmas sweaters, but he eventually decided that would likely be a bridge too far. He would spare the Doctor. This year, at least. 

He tucked the gingerbread away and got to work. He brought the Doctor his morning coffee, today sprinkled with a little cinnamon. Robotnik took one look at the dusting of cinnamon and his red turtleneck and stifled a grin. 

“You look to be possessed by Father Christmas himself today,” he noted, taking a sip of his drink. 

“I’ll take any arbitrary reason I can to get excited about something,” Stone countered, “Maybe some of the holiday cheer will rub off on you eventually.” 

“Doubt that,” Robotnik said, taking another drink. 

“What do you have against Christmas anyway?” Stone asked. 

He had his own cup of coffee and took a drink, waiting for a response. 

“Like you said, Agent. It’s an arbitrary reason to get excited,” he replied plainly, “One that I choose not to take.” 

“Huh,” Stone said. 

“It’s just another day,” Robotnik said, “I simply don’t see what all the fuss is about.” 

The Agent nodded, feeling a little pang of sadness at his lack of enthusiasm. Stone knew the Doctor was all business, but the thought of him being all alone on Christmas broke his heart a little bit. 

“I suppose you’re right,” Stone said, not knowing what else to say. 

He worked the rest of the day uninterrupted, plugging away and tying up lose ends in anticipation of having a rare day off tomorrow, looking forward to staying in his pajamas and not having to do anything productive. 

Robotnik took him by surprise, shaking the sleigh bells on his doorknob lightly. Stone lifted his head as the Doctor came inside. 

“Seeing as you’re so much into the holiday spirit this year, Agent, I’ve decided to let you go a little earlier than usual,” he said simply. 

“Oh! Thanks, Doctor,” Stone said, glancing down at the clock in the corner of his computer screen, surprised. 

It was 2:00PM. The Doctor always let him go a little early on Christmas eve, but never this early. Robotnik stepped toward his desk and set down a bottle of whiskey without fanfare, holding it by the neck in his gloved hand. As always, a shiny black ribbon was tied around the neck. 

“Happy holidays, Agent,” he said mildly, sounding for all the world as though he actually meant it. 

“Thank you, Doctor,” Stone said, “Oh, hang on!” 

He hopped up out of his chair and went to his file cabinet. He’d stashed the tin on top that morning. He presented the tin to Robotnik plainly, knowing he was probably a bit uncomfortable accepting it. He watched him hold it carefully, looking at it. 

“Agent, if this is a bomb, I’ll be very impressed and you’ll be very fired,” he said, accompanying his dry joke by tilting his ear down to the tin to listen for ticking or vibrating. 

Stone laughed, amazed that he’d caught his boss in such an oddly light mood. 

“Gingerbread cookies! They’re safe!” Stone said, “I baked them myself.” 

“Very thoughtful. Thank you, Agent,” Robotnik said, cocking his head down at the tin, clearly intrigued, “Now, get out of here. Happy holidays.” 

“Happy holidays, Doctor,” Stone said, watching him leave with the tin still sort of gently held in his hands. 

The Agent packed up quickly and left the lab, taking a long, lingering look in the rearview, feeling a little sorry for the Doctor, being left in his lab on Christmas eve. 

“Shit, what am I thinking,” he said with a little laugh as he pulled away, “ _I’m_ all alone on Christmas eve, too.” 

He’d left the cookies for his neighbors and the condo employees on his way out this morning, so he really had nothing else to do this evening except kick his feet up and open that new bottle of whiskey. He changed into some comfortable clothes and settled onto the sofa to watch a silly, formulaic holiday movie. 

He’d set up his silvery tree, as he did every year, next to the television, the lights on a timer. When they flicked on in the evening, little rainbow lights reflecting off the foil boughs, he decided that it was time to make dinner. He always made himself something nice on Christmas eve, even if it were only just for himself. 

This year, he decided on a joint of lamb, mashed potatoes, sautéed mushrooms. He cooked and ate dinner with some jovial holiday music to set the mood, and after cleaning up, decided it was time to get into that whiskey and his own personal stash of gingerbread cookies. 

He poured himself a glass of eggnog and put a dash of whiskey in it. And then a second one. 

“Aw, hell, why not?” he asked himself, pouring a little whiskey over ice in another glass to have on its own. 

He set up shop on the coffee table, two glasses, a little plate of cookies in assorted shapes – a few dinosaurs, a stocking, a robot. He lit a scented candle and settled back in, unpausing his movie, the one he hadn’t really been watching, and took his first sip of whiskey. 

“ _Damn_ , that’s good,” he said, feeling it burn its way pleasantly down his throat. 

No sooner had he made it halfway through his first gingerbread robot, his phone pinged. He was surprised to see the name on the screen – _Doctor Robotnik_. 

“Huh,” Stone said, unlocking it and opening the message. 

Robotnik rarely texted him, and it always pertained to work. He was shocked to see there was a photo attachment, as well as a text. He maximized the image and simply could not believe it. It was a photograph of a plate of cookies, a gloved thumbs up in the foreground. 

The accompanying message simply read “Excellent cookies, Agent.” 

“It’s a fucking Christmas _miracle_ ,” Stone said with a genuine laugh. 

He snapped a picture of his glass of whiskey in front of his cookies and sent it back, along with a text reading “Cheers! Enjoy them. Try to take it easy tomorrow.” 

He was blindsided by another response a moment later that simply read “You know I won’t.” 

“Bastard,” Stone said quietly, with a laugh and another sip of whiskey. 

The Agent took a little time to do some detective work. He turned up the brightness and zoomed in, noting the glass and chrome coffee table that the cookies sat on, the plush, off-white rug underneath. 

_Nice, Doctor_ , he thought to himself, _Very stylish_. 

The uneasy chill had mostly melted from their professional relationship. Stone looked at the picture of the Doctor’s thumbs up and held his phone a little more tightly, a little closer to his chest. Though no one was there with him, he still looked around stealthily before downloading the photo and going back in for another sip of whiskey. 

Back at the lab, the Doctor had shed his long coat and fine leather shoes. He was sitting on the sofa, hunched forward, glass in one hand, gingerbread robot in the other. Something about the gesture – the carefully-wrapped, homemade confections – made him feel a little weird on the inside. 

He took a bite, noting the pleasant snap of the cookie between his teeth. 

Christmas was not important to Doctor Robotnik. It never had been. He didn’t care for it. He didn’t care about it. He didn’t mind being alone on any given night, holiday or not. He was used to it. He had more important things to do than decorating, fussing, party planning. He simply didn’t have the time, the energy, or the desire to be involved. 

However, he did find his assistant’s enthusiasm for the holiday to be oddly endearing. He had imagined that Stone would likely be spending the evening at a holiday party of some sort, with friends, or neighbors, or a partner. Well, maybe not a partner. Stone never mentioned anyone and was never texting or calling anyone on the clock. 

He took a moment to picture it – his assistant, radiant with glee, glass in one hand, dressed in a godawful holiday sweater. He smiled, in spite of himself. 

It was oddly disconcerting, to have received a response to his text so quickly, as well as the accompanying photo that implied that his assistant was spending what seemed to be his favorite holiday on his own. Robotnik sighed out through his nose and stood up, walking to the kitchen and fetching a glass. 

“I think I’ll join you,” he said to no one. 

He poured himself a little glass of whiskey over ice – the same whiskey he gifted his assistant every year – and settled back down on the sofa, taking up another gingerbread robot. He queued up a playlist (with nary a Christmas song in sight) on a holoscreen before waving it away with his sensor glove. 

He considered the little gingerbread robot in his hand, thinking of the effort that must have gone into this exceptional batch of cookies. His mind quickly flickered to his assistant in his blazer, red turtleneck, and holly brooch. He raised his glass in his empty lounge. 

“Cheers, Agent,” he said, taking a sip and feeling it warming him from the inside out, “Happy holidays.” 

This year, they sat together on Stone’s sofa, Robotnik straight-backed, Stone slouched against him. The Doctor’s arm was wrapped loosely around him. 

“Nice to have someone here on Christmas for a change,” the Agent said softly. 

Robotnik smiled unseen, leaning his cheek against the side of Stone’s head. 

“I thought of you last year,” he said. 

“Hm?” Stone asked, not quite following the thread. 

“On Christmas. You sent me that photo and I realized that you were spending Christmas alone,” he replied, “I thought it was a shame that you were spending your favorite holiday like that. I’d just pictured you being at a party or something.” 

“I always spent it alone… I was sad you were on your own, too,” Stone said, drinking down the dregs of his first glass of mulled wine, “I’m glad you’re here.” 

“ _I’m_ glad I’m here,” Robotnik said, “Thank you, Agent.” 

Stone turned his head and kissed him on the cheek, feeling him smile. 

“Gingerbread?” he asked. 

Robotnik nodded and loosened his grip. Stone turned and pulled him up, too. 

“Come with me?” he asked. 

The Doctor’s expression softened and he nodded again, allowing the Agent to pull him up. As they walked into the kitchen, Stone held his arm to stop him and pointed up. Robotnik laughed and shook his head as he noticed the carefully-planted sprig of mistletoe hanging just below the kitchen doorway. 

He took Stone into his arms and looked down at him, still shaking his head. 

“Well, would you look at that,” the Agent said slyly, “What a coincidence.” 

“I guess Christmas isn’t all bad,” he replied. 

“That’s the spirit,” Stone replied, standing on his toes to kiss him. 

They shared a warm, lingering kiss before retrieving a plate of gingerbread robots and two glasses of spiked eggnog. They’d already eaten dinner and spent some time out on the balcony, enjoying the cool night air. Robotnik had put a moratorium on formulaic holiday movies, under the guise of “easing” himself into holiday traditions. Stone gladly agreed. He could only push him so far, after all. 

The Doctor sat back on the sofa, glass in one hand. With the other hand, he patted his thigh as Stone came over. 

“I understand Christmas involves lap-sitting,” Robotnik said. 

“Oh my _god_ ,” Stone chuckled in disbelief. 

“Come on, Stone,” Robotnik purred, “Tell me what you want for Christmas.” 

The Agent sat carefully on his lap, setting the plate of cookies on the cushion next to them. He clinked his glass against his partner’s and tapped his chin in thought. 

“That’s a tough question,” he said. 

“Oh?” Robotnik asked. 

“Yeah, I’ve already got what I want,” Stone said. 

He picked up a gingerbread cookie and offered it to the Doctor, who promptly bit its head off. 

“You’ve set the bar fairly low,” he said, taking a sip of his whiskey eggnog, “All you wanted was to have your miserable boss come over?” 

“I think you mean having my boyfriend come over for a romantic evening, yes,” Stone corrected before adding, “I’m glad you’re staying the night.” 

Robotnik nodded and leaned his head against Stone’s shoulder, hand slipping under his sweater, pressing against the small of his back. 

“I think it’s time we talk about this sweater,” he whispered. 

Stone looked down at his sweater and tried to stifle a grin. It was one he’d resisted wearing to work last year. It was red, with the rosy-cheeked visage of Santa Claus, his beard made of fuzzy textured yarn. Stone ran his fingers along the fuzzy beard and looked back at his partner. 

“What? You don’t like it?” he asked innocently. 

“Well, if anyone can make it work, it’s you,” Robotnik confessed, switching his glass from hand to hand so he could run his fingers over the soft beard yarn. 

“But… You still don’t like it,” Stone said with a teasing grin. 

It was not a question. 

“Now, I never said that,” Robotnik said teasingly, biting his lip to contain a laugh. 

“Are you suggesting I change?” he replied. 

“Not exactly what I had in mind,” Robotnik said, bare hand creeping up under the hem of the sweater. 

“Doctor!” Stone gasped in mock surprise, jumping slightly at the cool hand on his stomach. 

Robotnik leaned in and kissed his neck, breathing against his sensitive skin, making him squirm in his lap. His hand crept up higher, moving up his waist. 

“You’re really getting into the spirit,” Stone chuckled. 

“Well, the more I thought about it,” Robotnik said, “Excuses to drink, thematic clothing, pleasant pine scent, lap sitting, and a patriarch with iconic facial hair… I am _all_ about this holiday.” 

Stone chuckled and kissed his forehead before taking another sip of his drink. 

“Now, since you’re on _Santa’s_ lap,” the Doctor said with a toothy grin, “Tell me what you _really_ want for Christmas.” 

Stone twisted to set his drink aside and put both hands low on Robotnik’s chest, parting the lapels of his coat, feeling his soft sweater under his palms. 

“Gee, I don’t know,” the Agent feigned, grinding down into his lap subtly. 

“Oh, really?” Robotnik said, hand creeping up onto his chest under his novelty sweater. 

“Suppose I’d really like to get my stocking stuffed,” Stone said, playful tone dropping to one that was downright alluring, lips close to his partner’s, “Maybe have you come down my chimney. What do you reckon, Father Christmas? Have I been a good boy this year?” 

“Not if you keep that up,” Robotnik said dangerously, grinding against him briefly. 

“I’m willing press my luck,” Stone said, grabbing his sweater and pulling him into a kiss. 

After a moment, Robotnik took hold of his upper arms and pushed him back, breaking the kiss. 

“If you don’t get your ass to the bedroom _right now_ ,” he threatened with a grin. 

“What’re you gonna do?” Stone countered, arms already back around his neck 

Robotnik narrowed his eyes and snapped his teeth at him. 

“Bedroom. _Now_.” he growled. 

Stone slipped off his lap and hightailed it to the bedroom, Robotnik close on his heels with his easy, long stride. He reached out and grabbed the Agent just short of his bed by the back of his sweater’s collar. He pulled him back and turned him around. 

“Get this ridiculous thing _off_ ,” Robotnik said, grabbing the hem and deftly yanking the sweater off over his partner’s head, fuzzy yarn beard and all. 

Stone laughed excitedly, more than ready for some action. He was already working at his own belt and fly, stepping out of the slippers he was wearing. Robotnik tossed off his coat and pulled his sweater off over his head. It was Stone’s turn to take control. He grabbed the Doctor by his slim shoulders and pulled him down on top of him, slowly, gradually, as he laid down on the bed. 

Robotnik braced himself on the mattress with one hand, the other having already snaked its way into Stone’s open fly, fondling his erection through the fabric of his underwear. Stone bucked up into his inquisitive fingers, letting out a succession of soft moans. 

“You’ve been very patient tonight,” Robotnik complimented, “How long have you been looking forward to a Christmas Eve fuck?” 

“A _long_ time,” Stone replied, rocking his hips up against his hand. 

He started to shimmy his pants down, and Robotnik’s hands joined his, helping him slip them the rest of the way off, taking his underwear with them. He let them fall to the floor. 

“I mean, my favorite holiday with my favorite guy,” the Agent continued, twining his fingers though his hair, “What more could I possibly ask for?” 

The Doctor crouched carefully on the floor between Stone’s legs, shifting into a kneel. He bestowed one restrained lick up his shaft and looked up at him expectantly. 

“Think of anything else to ask for yet?” he asked, full of mischief. 

“Y-yeah,” the Agent breathed, “ _Please_ do that again.” 

Robotnik chuckled before gently taking his cock around the base in his deft hand and bowed his head, taking his cock into his mouth. His other hand took Stone by the wrist, guiding his hand onto the back of his head. He let out a ragged breath when he felt the Agent’s fingers tighten in the strands of his hair. 

Stone eased down onto the bed, small of his back pressed into mattress, his free elbow supporting the weight of his upper body so he could watch. Robotnik’s brows were knitted, eyes closed, little strands of hair falling into his face. He bobbed his head slowly, taking him from base to tip. 

When a tight sigh escaped from Stone’s mouth, Robotnik’s sharp, analytical eyes opened and looked up at him without breaking his rhythm. The Agent immediately felt like a butterfly pinned to a piece of Styrofoam. Robotnik’s eyes almost always had the effect on him – like they looked right into his head. When his piercing eyes slipped closed again, Stone felt his shoulders relax slightly, a pleasurable chill running down his spine. Robotnik changed his pace, tongue against the underside of his shaft with purpose, swallowing him down halfway, moving his fingers wrapped around him to meet his lips. Stone could only take so much of that. 

“Oh, _god_ , Doc, _stop_ ,” he said after a few moments, easing his hand off of the back of his head. 

Robotnik slowly backed off, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand delicately. 

“Too much?” he asked. 

Stone nodded in a way that made his chest tighten. He was so sweet, so vulnerable. 

“Do you want to move on?” Robotnik asked. 

Stone nodded again, demure, almost shy, thick lashes dropping over his glassy eyes. 

“Okay. Lay down. Get comfortable,” the Doctor said, smoothing a hand up his thigh and then getting to his feet, ignoring the stiffness in his knees from kneeling. 

His tender tone of voice made Stone’s knees weak. Robotnik truly swept him off his feet – from the moment they’d come clean about their feelings from one another, and very often since. It meant so much to have him there on Christmas Eve. 

While he was up retrieving the lube from the drawer, Robotnik dropped his slacks and stepped out of them. He slid down his nondescript black underwear – utilitarian, as most of his belongings were – and settled back on the bed between his partner’s legs. 

“Wait!” Stone said suddenly, breaking his focus. 

“What?” he asked, trying to mask his sudden concern. 

“What can I – can I do something for you?” he asked, eyes wide and curious, eager to please. 

Robotnik sighed and his shoulders fell, utterly disarmed by his lovely assistant. 

“No. You just relax for me,” he said, fixing him with an earnest look, “Enjoy yourself. I’d like to just watch you tonight.” 

“Really?” Stone asked. 

The Doctor nodded wordlessly, and he didn’t need further convincing. Stone laid back, propped up on the pillows as he spread his thighs. He was holding Robotnik’s hand, until it was needed to open the bottle of lube. Once that was taken care of, their fingers joined again. 

The Agent relaxed as Robotnik’s skilled fingers prepared him, stretched him with his trademark patience and exacting specifications. Every time he raised his head and looked down, Robotnik was watching him. Truthfully, the Doctor couldn’t get enough. He soaked up every little detail. The flush that spread to Stone’s chest, the flutter of his eyelids, the way he rocked so gently down against his fingers and tried to hold back his sweet sighs. 

“Feeling good?” he asked as their eyes met again. 

Stone nodded and squeezed his hand tighter for a moment before tossing his head slightly. 

“Have you thought about what position you’d like?” Robotnik asked, thumb caressing the back of his hand, holding his attention. 

“I think I just – _oh_ – I just want to be on my back,” Stone said, “I wanna see you. I wanna be able to hold you. I wanna _feel_ you.” 

It didn’t take much to get Robotnik completely hot under the collar. The smallest amount of dirty talk would work, and those few statements had constituted as enough in his book. 

“Do you want me inside you?” he hissed, leaning down to kiss the inside of Stone’s knee. 

“Yeah,” Stone said dreamily. 

“Are you going to wrap your legs around me the way I like?” Robotnik asked, deep voice sending a chill down the Agent’s spine. 

“Yes!” he replied, voice high and thin. 

“That’s good, because I think you’re _just_ about ready,” the Doctor said, scissoring his fingers with care. 

Stone squeaked and dug his free hand into the duvet, grasping at the sheets. He knew that the Doctor was meticulous in all of his preparations, including the preparatory measures for physical intimacy. He was never one to rush through something so important. But it was, at the moment, excruciating. 

“I want you,” Stone breathed, fixing him with a desperate look. 

Robotnik trembled at the impact of his voice, his gaze. He gently started to ease his fingers out. 

“You have me,” he said, “I’m all yours.” 

“I _need_ you,” Stone hissed, mourning the absence of his fingers as they slipped away, leaving him feeling empty. 

The Doctor spread his legs further apart, slotting easily between, he ran his hands up and down the outsides of Stone’s muscular thighs. He rubbed his cockhead against the Agent’s wanting hole, teasing. He couldn’t make him wait any longer. He used one hand to guide himself, pressing into Stone’s quivering body. 

The sound the Agent made in response was music to his ears, always, every time. A sort of shaky, relieved moan, whether on top or bottom, that made the Doctor’s world stand still. He sunk in slow, taking his time, fighting the urge to rush, the impatience of his physical body. 

He hunched over Stone, holding his face in his hands, watching the minute changes of his expression and feeling them ripple through his body. He folded forward more as Stone lifted his hips, as their bodies connected. Stone opened his eyes, half-lidded, bordering on overwhelmed, staring up into Robotnik’s eyes, lost of all their piercing acuity. 

The Doctor leaned the rest of the way down, connecting their lips in a slow, deep kiss, feeling his neat beard under his palms. He felt Stone arch up underneath him as he bottomed out, heard him draw in a deep breath. Robotnik pulled back from the kiss, still nearly nose-to-nose with him, a thin strand of drool connecting their mouths. 

He could tell exactly what Stone wanted. Tonight, he was in the mood for romance, for tenderness. He wanted it slow and gentle, at least to start. He was more than happy to deliver. 

“My darling,” he murmured, starting a slow, shallow movement with his hips. 

Stone’s arms wrapped around him to grip his shoulders with powerful hands. He arched his back up off the bed. 

“ _Please_ ,” he breathed, unsure of what he was even asking for. 

“What is it, dear one?” Robotnik asked, lifting his head with great effort to meet his eyes. 

Each little endearment made the Agent’s hair stand on end. He looked up at Robotnik’s face, his soft gaze. During sex, if they were being gentle with one another, the Doctor looked nearly like a different person. All the tension disappeared from his face, and his eyes lacked their usual sharpness, his posture completely slack and fluid, a contrast from his usual rigidity. He radiated a sort of gentle control that made Stone feel secure and cared for. 

“Fuck me, please,” Stone said, looking up at him with sparkling eyes. 

Robotnik certainly could not deny him. He started to rock his hips a little harder, but still slowly. 

“I want nothing more-” he began, leaning in until their noses touched again, “than to please you.” 

“Oh, _god_ ,” Stone whispered, eyes slipping closed. 

He felt himself being filled up, stretched, spread, and it was lulling him into an almost-hypnosis, ready to give himself over fully to pleasure. 

“How can I do that? How can I please you?” Robotnik asked, voice velvety, “Tell me what you want.” 

Before he could answer, a spirited sigh escaped Stone’s lips and his head fell back gently against the pillow. 

“Kiss my neck,” he said, “Kiss my neck and fuck me.” 

“Gladly,” Robotnik purred. 

He kept his hips working at the same moderate grind, pulling out slow before plunging back in deep. He lowered his face down to Stone’s neck, breathing in the warm, clean smell of his skin. He licked along his carotid artery, feeling it straining under his tongue before moving back down with light kisses. 

Stone’s fingers twitched and gripped his shoulders harder, pulling him closer, wordlessly begging him. He tilted his head further back baring his neck, giving the Doctor more space to cover. Robotnik lavished a few more gentle kisses along his neck before picking a spot over to the side, just above the hollow of his collarbone. He raked his teeth gently at first, feeling the Agent tremble beneath him, feeling his fingers twitch on his back. 

“How could I _possibly_ -“ he said, pausing for another light kiss, “leave a mark on this _lovely_ neck?” 

“Fucking _do it_ ,” Stone whined, “Please, please, _please_.” 

The quiet laugh that escaped the Doctor’s lips made Stone tighten up all over. He let loose an abrupt cry when he felt Robotnik bite him, sharp but not terribly hard, before sucking on the delicate skin low on his neck. 

“Yesss!” Stone hissed. 

Almost automatically, he wrapped his legs around Robotnik’s waist, rocking easily against him, pulling him in deeper. 

“Harder!” he moaned, feeling his partner grin against his neck. 

“That’s right,” the Doctor soothed, smoothing one of his hands back over Stone’s scalp, bristling his hair, “Wrap your legs around me.” 

He lifted his head so he could look at his assistant, his partner. Stone’s mouth had gone slack and he was adorably flushed. He was looking up at Robotnik with big, half-lit eyes. He struggled to draw breath, arrested by Stone’s tender expression. 

“Is it good?” Robotnik rasped. 

“ _Yeah_ ,” Stone managed, eyes fluttering closed, head falling to the side. 

The Doctor couldn’t stop himself from staring, grinning. He worked his hips harder, feeling Stone flutter, grip, tease him. One at a time, he moved his hands to pin the Agent’s strong shoulders to the bed. He knew that he liked to feel small, powerless. 

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Stone murmured deeply, feeling himself being pushed into the mattress. 

He felt his eyes roll back, legs tightening rhythmically around his lover’s slim waist. Robotnik knew just how to please him. He barely had to speak a word. 

“Is this what you want?” Robotnik asked, trying to tease some breathy words out of him. 

“Yes!” Stone gasped. 

“Tell me more,” the Doctor grunted, “Tell me.” 

He _loved_ his Agent’s voice. He always had. Since the moment Agent Stone had been escorted into his lab for his first day, flanked by two higher-ranked officials (for safety), he’d found his voice tolerable, pleasant, even. This was a rare occurrence, as most voices put him on edge or immediately began work on his last nerve. But not his Agent. 

He especially loved Stone’s voice when they were in bed. He was usually so calm and collected. It was really something to hear him beg, plead, scream, gasp, to teeter briefly on the edge of composure before willingly letting go. 

“Fuck, it’s so good,” Stone said, voice high, “Give it to me. Give it to me, _please!_ ” 

“Give you _what?_ ” Robotnik hissed. 

“Gimme your cock!” Stone begged abruptly, loudly, “C’mon Doc, please!” 

The Doctor leaned in as he felt Stone’s strong hands sliding down his arms, gripping him lightly just below the elbow. He looked down at his partner a long moment, holding his gaze. 

“You’re _beautiful_ ,” Robotnik said, “You should see yourself right now.” 

“Doooc,” Stone whined quietly. 

Robotnik smirked affectionately down at him and lowered himself down. 

“Want me to hold you?” he asked. 

Stone nodded with a little moan. Robotnik leaned in and braced himself on his elbows. He interlaced his fingers on the crown of Stone’s head, protecting him from the headboard as he fucked into him a little harder. Stone arched his back and wrapped his arms around him, savoring the shared warmth and closeness. 

He dug his fingers into Robotnik’s sides with a choked gasp. He felt the Doctor bow his head over him, shielding him from the outside world for the moment. Yes, they were alone together almost all the time, but outside of the lab, they felt truly _alone together_. Of course, Stone didn’t need to be protected from anything at the moment, but he felt extremely _safe_.

“You feel so fucking _good_ , Stone,” Robotnik growled. 

“Ah!” the Agent cried, “Fuck!” 

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he rasped in his ear. 

“Yes!” Stone shouted. 

“My darling?” Robotnik continued. 

“Uh-huh,” he groaned. 

“My baby?” Robotnik asked, flicking his tongue against the shell of his ear. 

“Fuck! Doc, _please!_ ” Stone begged, each little pet name whittling away at him. 

“Please what, sweetheart?” he asked. 

With the question, he abruptly changed his rhythm from a defined back-and-forth to a more undulating sort of movement. He felt his partner let out a pent-up breath beneath him, felt his legs relax fractionally around him, felt the strong arms around him loosen just a little. 

“I need a sec,” Stone panted, arms slipping from him entirely, laying prone on the bed, "Wait, hold on, I need a sec." 

Robotnik carefully unhanded him and pushed himself up on his palms, looking down at his partner to assess the situation. Stone’s eyes were closed, one hand prone in the center of his chest, breathing heavily. No apparent signs of distress. 

“Oh,” Robotnik said, looking down at him, “Oh, oh, oh. You’re overwhelmed.” 

He lifted one hand, feeling the arm supporting him tremble. He trailed the back of his fingers down Stone’s cheek, watching him catch his breath. He loved to dote on him, to treat him with care. 

Stone was just so sensitive, so kind and soft in nature. One couldn’t exactly tell from looking at him – his comfortably confident posture, his strong form, the little fleck of determination that always showed in his expression. Yet, here he was, panting audibly, full lips parted, his brow smooth and without worry, just needing a moment to collect himself before going on. 

It was always the endearments that did it. 

_So sweet_ , Robotnik thought, sure he heart would break free from his rib cage if he stared at his assistant any longer. 

“Do you want me to pull out?” he asked, barely above a whisper, “I could hold you for a while.” 

Stone shook his head “no,” and smiled, eyes still closed. 

“No, no,” he said softly, “I just need a sec. Th-thank you.” 

The Doctor eased himself down onto Stone, still supporting much of his weight on his elbow as he sank down, chest to chest with him, belly to belly. The way Stone’s cock pressed up against him, throbbing insistently, assured him that everything was okay. 

He was thin, and Stone had always said that he didn’t find him to be heavy, but there was something to be said for being his weighted blanket. He settled against him, still supporting some of his weight on his elbow. 

Robotnik’s hand cupped his cheek lightly, running his thumb back and forth just below his lower lip. With their bodies pressed together, he could feel Stone’s breath evening out. The Agent’s hand twitched to life and moved to rest on his forearm. 

When Stone’s eyes fluttered open, he was unsurprised to find Robotnik already looking at him, but as always, his gentle, inquisitive expression threatened to take his breath away again. The Doctor inched up to kiss him briefly, pulling away to look at him again. 

“You alright?” he asked. 

Stone nodded and swallowed. 

“I just needed a minute to process,” he said, “Tonight’s just been too perfect.” 

“Oh?” Robotnik asked, lifting himself up a little, curious. 

“I – I never thought that we’d be, y’know, _together_. It just kind of hit me all at once. It’s embarrassing, but-” Stone said, smiling, looking away, “I always kind of dreamt of spending Christmas with you. Like, for a long time.” 

“Oh!” Robotnik said, a little taken aback. 

“But this has been better than I ever imagined,” Stone said, hands slipping up his partner’s slim arms to his shoulders. 

“Aw, Stone,” he replied, his turn to look away sheepishly, “I would’ve never had the nerve to dream something so audacious.” 

Stone flushed at his own admission, and then a little deeper at the Doctor’s. 

“I’m glad it’s turned out this way,” Robotnik said quietly, “After all these years of experimentation, sometimes predicting the outcomes is still beyond me.” 

Stone leaned up and pressed their lips together, conveying all he needed to say wordlessly. As he pulled back and saw Robotnik’s guileless, gentle expression, he felt the need to reiterate. 

“God, I love you, Doctor,” Stone said, voice unrestrained, honest, bordering on overcome. 

“I love you, too,” Robotnik said, on the edge of his emotional resolve. 

He plunged down again into a hungry, passionate tongue kiss that the Agent enthusiastically reciprocated. Before he knew it, Stone was rubbing his cock against his belly, legs clamped tightly around him once again. When Robotnik threw his head back for air, he was practically gasping. 

“ _Stone_ ,” he breathed harshly. 

“I’m ready,” the Agent said quickly, nearly cutting off his single-syllable utterance. 

“Sure?” Robotnik asked, searching his face. 

“Yes,” Stone confirmed, locking eyes with him. 

“And how do you want it?” Robotnik asked, suddenly short of breath. 

Stone sometimes changed his mind after a little timeout. The Doctor wanted to make sure they were still on the same page before continuing. 

“Doc, I’m _so_ close,” Stone gasped in a way that made Robotnik tremble, “Don’t make me wait.” 

_Loud and clear_ , Robotnik thought, feeling him squirm underneath him. 

He worked quickly up to a punishing pace, one hand braced on the headboard, the other holding Stone’s shoulder, fingers spasmodically tightening and loosening. Underneath him, Stone was treating him to a chorus of sighs, moans, and the periodic emphatic “Yes!” 

“Just like that!” Stone begged, legs around his waist, one hand clamped on the back of his neck, the other one punishing the sheets in his strong grip. 

“Yeah?” Robotnik asked, voice tight. 

Stone nodded, canting his hips slightly, readjusting the angle, reveling in the stretch and slide of his partner’s cock inside him, the maddening drag of it. With sex, as with everything else, Robotnik had been a quick study. He knew just how to please Stone, just what he liked. Right now, he was giving him a fast, hard fuck, periodically dropping off into a slow, teasing grind at a rhythm that Stone couldn’t quite figure out. It kept him guessing. 

The Agent managed to loosen his grip on the sheets during one of these slow lulls and spat in his palm. He reached down between them and took hold of his cock, arching his back as he began an even stroke. 

He looked up at Robotnik’s face, a mask of pleasure bordering on anguish. He bowed his head a moment, watching Stone’s hand at work, feeling his stomach clench, unable to look away for a moment. When he finally did, he looked back up at the Agent with fiery eyes. 

“Does that feel good, Stone?” he hissed. 

He nodded his head, unable to speak. 

“Are you going to cum?” Robotnik asked, barely hanging on. 

“Y-yes!” Stone sputtered, "Gonna cum!" 

Robotnik’s hand suddenly moved from his shoulder to the back of his head, cradling him close. He pulled Stone into a kiss, a messy, fevered one. The Agent’s hands tangled into his hair and tugged at it, knowing the effect it would have on him, feeling his hips stutter. 

Robotnik groaned into the kiss, leaning forward, putting a little more tension between the Agent’s hands and his hair. His hips worked like a jackhammer, fucking into Stone hard and fast, making him moan high with each slick, audible thrust.

He felt Stone buckle against him, gripping him hard, pulling him close, arching against him. Next, he felt the hot, sticky, splash against his belly as Stone pulled away from the kiss, gasping for breath desperately, losing all control as his orgasm reverberated through him. 

Robotnik was not far behind, letting out an inelegant, choked shout, throwing his head back before ducking back against Stone’s neck, breathing hard against him as he rode out the last few forceful, jerky thrusts of his climax. 

Stone’s legs loosened from around his waist slowly, Robotnik having gone fully limp against him, wracked with harsh post-orgasmic breaths. Stone wrapped one arm around him and slipped his free hand under his, smiling when their fingers weakly interlaced. After any particularly spirited round of sex, regardless of configuration, Robotnik was often tired out and needed some time to recover. 

The Agent wasn’t sure how long he held him, how much time passed before the Doctor reached between them, eased out and then rolled off of him gracelessly. Robotnik sighed and opened his eyes with great effort, turning his head toward his partner. Stone’s grip on his hand tightened, smiling at him with starry eyes. 

“That was perfect,” Stone said. 

His compliments still caught Robotnik somewhat off-guard. He lowered his brows with effort and fixed Stone’s warm gaze with his own tired, satisfied one. He traced a finger down Stone’s cheekbone. 

“Glad you enjoyed it,” Robotnik said, never quite sure how to reply, "You're fantastic." 

Stone smiled wider and turned away a moment, stretching out his free arm to dim the bedside lamp until the room was dark. Robotnik made a soft, relieved sound, glad of the dimness, feeling his eyelids relax, already inching toward sleep. 

“Tired?” Stone asked, turning back toward him. 

“Very,” the Doctor replied. 

He turned onto his side and felt Stone scoot closer to him, into his arms, the two of them once again chest-to-chest. Stone’s arm settled over his waist, and Robotnik wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. They were both so satisfied and tired. Robotnik couldn't think of a better way to drift off to sleep. 

“Goodnight, Doctor,” Stone murmured, ready to doze. 

“G'nite, Stone,” he replied, already halfway there. 

The following morning, Stone was the first to wake. He stretched subtly, noting that Robotnik’s arm was wrapped around him. He turned his head to see that his partner was still asleep. Normally, Stone would let him sleep in, would stay in bed and take full advantage of the snuggling opportunity, especially on a cold morning like this one. 

However, it was Christmas, and Agent Stone was excited. 

“Wake up,” he said quietly, briskly rubbing his palm into the center of the Doctor’s chest, “Get up, Doc.” 

“Hrm?” Robotnik gruffly answered, not opening his eyes. 

“It’s Christmas!” Stone replied, voice alight. 

“Ugh – what time is it?” Robot asked groggily, rubbing his eyes with one hand. 

“Doesn’t matter. It’s Christmas. Wake up,” Stone said, “I’m going to get the coffee started!” 

He pulled himself from Robotnik’s embrace and got easily out of bed. The Doctor immediately clutched the sheets to his bare chest, feeling the cool air rush under the sheets as his partner left. He hadn’t even opened his eyes yet, hunkering down into bed, trying to usurp the warmth that Stone had left behind. 

A moment later, Stone was in the kitchen in his robe, electric kettle set to boil. He set up his coffee drip rig and got out two mugs – one with an alpaca on it that was his, and the other with the periodic table for his partner. Stone set out today’s special ingredients, comprising of eggnog and cinnamon. 

Once the water was heated and he’d meticulously poured it over the grounds, he headed back into the bedroom. He made a brief detour in the bathroom, turning on the hot water full-blast and closing the door as he left to trap the heat inside. 

Once in the bedroom, he sat on Robotnik’s side of the bed, where the older man was completely hidden under the sheets. Stone smiled and placed a hand where he approximated a shoulder might be. 

“Coffee is perking. Shower is running. Want to get up?” he asked quietly. 

Silence. A minute movement from under the blanket. 

Robotnik pulled the sheets down just slightly, eyeing Stone with tired eyes. 

“Better get up,” he said, “I’m _told_ it’s Christmas.” 

Stone grinned and leaned in to kiss him on the forehead before standing up. He carefully pulled back the sheets and offered Robotnik both hands, which he gratefully took. He didn’t need help out of bed, but he appreciated the gesture. The room felt bracingly cold once he’d left the comfort of the sheets. He crossed both arms modestly over his chest as he walked to the bathroom, not yet fully awake, not quite able to hurry. 

Once in the humid warmth of the bathroom, Stone shrugged his robe off and stepped into the shower, Robotnik close behind. He was unsurprised, but deeply contented when the Doctor wrapped his arms around him and rested his forehead against his shoulder. He was more than happy to take a close, tender shower with him until he was ready to face the day. 

Stone combed his fingers through the Doctor’s wet hair, listening to him sigh contentedly and lean a little more against him. Robotnik was always very affectionate in the mornings, though it often came with a groggy crankiness that only endeared him further. 

They lathered and rinsed one another, sharing a few morning time kisses under the hot spray of the shower. They dried off together and Stone left the bathroom first, leaving Robotnik to carefully towel his hair dry and soak up the hot, steamy air. 

The Agent shuffled off to kitchen, dressed in his warm, dark green robe, pajama pants and slippers. He finished preparing the coffee and brought both mugs out to the den, setting them on the coffee table, waiting for his partner to make an appearance. 

While he waited, he put his feet up and queued up a Christmas playlist that the Doctor had put together, all songs carefully vetted and approved for the occasion. After several minutes, he heard the bathroom door open and Robotnik appeared in the living room, dressed similarly – a black robe, pajama pants, slippers, with socks, notably, as his ankles got cold. 

Stone had jokingly floated the idea of matching Christmas pajamas just to scandalize him. It had done the job, hence their usual robes and morning time attire. He sat next to Stone on the sofa and took up his coffee mug, lifting it to his nose for a deep, satisfying inhale. 

Stone cuddled up close to him and was instantly gratified by one of the Doctor’s long arms wrapping around his shoulders, holding him even closer. Robotnik sat straight with his eyes closed, feeling his partner’s comforting warmth radiating against his body as he took the first sip of his morning coffee. 

“A triumph, as always,” he murmured. 

Stone smiled and rested his head against him. 

They’d agreed to exchange one gift, to show their appreciation for one another while keeping it simple and relatively stress-free. Stone was looking forward to it, as he felt he’d chosen something both practical and luxurious. It was wrapped carefully in a small rectangular box under his tree. 

Likewise, Robotnik had tucked the small parcel into his bag before coming over the previous night. He wasn’t actively thinking of it in the moment. He was too busy basking in the utter contentment of the moment – a delicious coffee, a warm bathrobe, his lovely Agent tucked beneath his arm. 

They sat quietly, reveling in each other’s company for a good while, until the coffee was nearly finished. Robotnik was slouched down low on the couch, Stone pressed against him sidesaddle, knees against his thigh. Nothing needed to be said. It was unspeakably pleasant, especially for Robotnik, to not have to speak, to quiet his ever-racing mind. When the coffee was nearly gone, he finally spoke. 

“And what is on our holiday itinerary?” he asked. 

“There’s really not a strict itinerary,” Stone said thoughtfully, “We can exchange gifts and then get back in bed, or watch a movie? It’s just… Nice to have a day off with you. It doesn’t really matter to me what we do today.” 

“No obscure Christmas traditions?” Robotnik asked jokingly. 

“None,” Stone confirmed, “Maybe just a nice dinner later.” 

“Perfect,” the Doctor said, tightening his arm around him for a moment. 

“Let me take that,” Stone said, gently resting a hand on his mug. 

Robotnik nodded and felt him stand up, immediately feeling the absence of his warmth. He stretched his long arms above his head and eventually stood, going to rummage in his bag for the little box he’d brought with him. He tucked it into his robe pocket and returned to the sofa. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d bought wrapping paper, or the last time he’d actually wrapped a gift. Yes, he used to give Stone a bottle of whiskey each Christmas, but that was easy, impersonal. Stick a ribbon on it and you’re done. This year, that was obviously not appropriate. 

Overall, he was pleased with his choice. Practical. Elegant. Bordering on ostentatious, which worried him a bit, but he was comfortable in the knowledge that he’d done the best he could. 

When Stone returned from the kitchen, he made a quick detour past the tree to fetch the only thing underneath, and returned to the sofa. This time, he fully committed and sat perpendicular to the Doctor, laying his legs across his lap. 

Stone knew that his partner was not exactly comfortable accepting gifts. He’d explained early on that it wasn’t something he was accustomed to, but that he would do his best to get used to. Stone was careful not to overdo it, not to make it a big thing. 

He simply handed the Doctor the box. It was shallow and rectangular, wrapped in red paper with shiny gold dots, a simple red plastic bow on top. Robotnik took it and shook it lightly, understanding that was something that one just _did_ with Christmas gifts. 

“Shall I open it?” he asked. 

“Yes,” Stone replied with a chuckle. "Please do."

Robotnik carefully turned it over, running one deft finger under the seam, separating the tape from the paper. Stone couldn’t help but grin at his curious, restrained nature. He pulled the paper away without tearing it, setting it neatly to the side. He ran his hand along the black, textured box, wondering what it held. 

Again, with seeming caution, Robotnik lifted the lid and slowly folded back the red and black tartan tissue paper, more intrigued. 

“Oh, Stone,” he said quietly, realizing what was in the box. 

He took them out and held them in his hands a long, quiet moment. New gloves. Glove of fine black leather, some of the most supple he’d ever felt – Italian if he had to guess. He lifted them closer to his face and inhaled the rich leathery smell. The stitching was a deep red. They were obviously handmade with care by an expert. He was speechless. 

“Try ‘em on,” the Agent encouraged, “I want to make sure they fit. I had to guess on the size.” 

Unable to take his eyes from the gloves, Robotnik slipped one on. They were longer than a standard pair of gloves, coming up just past his prominent wrist bone. He fastened the glove in place with the ornate, domed silver button that he someone hadn’t noticed before. The button was cold and pleasantly heavy, obviously a fine sterling silver. He pulled on the other one and buttoned it, too. He flexed his fingers, delighting in the warm, organic creak the material made. 

“Well?” Stone asked. 

“Perfect fit,” Robotnik said, finally looking away from his hands on to his partner, “I’m lost for words. They’re stunning.” 

Stone took one of his hands and turned it over, palm side up, running his fingers along the smooth leather, fingering the stitch along the side. He lifted Robotnik’s hand to cradle his cheek, testing the leather against his skin. 

“This is very thoughtful,” Robotnik said quietly, holding his gaze with seriousness, dropping to a whisper, “Thank you, Stone.” 

He leaned in and kissed him, holding his face in both gloved hands. 

“You won’t mind if I keep them on?” he asked in jest as they pulled apart. 

“Not at all,” Stone replied with a proud smile. 

The Doctor reached into his robe pocket and produced his gift, handing it over to his assistant. It was wrapped in sleek black paper with a small sliver bow. 

“Your turn,” he said, looking forward to his reaction. 

Robotnik did much prefer giving gifts than receiving them, but Stone's expert gift was calling that into question. 

Stone opened the little box considerably less elegantly, tearing the paper away with a sort of restrained excitement that Robotnik found adorable. He watched Stone’s hand come up to cover his mouth when he opened the lid. 

“Doctor!” he gasped quietly, “Are you kidding me? You shouldn't have!” 

“Oh, come now,” Robotnik soothed, putting a hand at the middle of his back. 

Stone carefully took the little glimmering item into his hands and held it in the light. It was a gold tie bar with a small glittering stone set at one end – possibly a minuscule diamond, but Stone daren’t think of it. 

“I thought it might help,” Robotnik said, his voice warm with affection, “With your necktie dilemma.” 

This was an odd joke that had cropped up between them. Stone often had to walk fast, near to a run, to keep up with Robotnik, a long-strided, impatient fast-walker who always had some place to be. He was especially fast when agitated, which accounted for any meeting they attended. Trying to keep up often resulted in Stone’s necktie fluttering back over his shoulder, if he were moving fast enough. Robotnik did often tease him about it, in an affectionate way, as he tucked his errant tie back into his suit jacket and smoothed it down. 

“Doc, this is-” Stone started, turning it over and noticing something on the back. 

He squinted and held it closer to his face, reading the delicate script engraving on the back. 

_All my love – R._

Instead of trying to thank him with words, Stone grabbed him around the neck with both arms and pulled the Doctor into a sudden kiss, his tie bar clutched carefully in one palm. When he pulled away, Robotnik looked a little surprised. 

“Thank you,” Stone said quietly, “It’s beautiful. I don’t know what to say.” 

“It’s very elegant. It’ll look fantastic on you,” Robotnik replied, putting a hand just below his knee. 

“I’m going to put on a tie right now!” Stone said, hopping off of the sofa and hurrying back to the bedroom. 

He returned with a black necktie on against his bare chest under his bathrobe, his tie bar clipped resolutely on for all to see. The Doctor stood to inspect him, gently running a gloved finger down his tie at a slow, sensual pace. He considered the tie bar and smiled to himself. He'd imagined that gold would compliment his Agent's beautiful skin. 

“It’s a good look,” Robotnik mused, taking him into his arms, “A robe with a tie.” 

“Get used to it, I’m never taking it off,” Stone said, looking up at him. 

Robotnik raised a hand, momentarily admiring his beautiful new gloves, before trailing his palm down Stone’s cheek. 

“I may never take these off either,” he said quietly, holding him by his chin and guiding him into a kiss. 

They spend the rest of the morning on the sofa together, Stone’s electric fireplace keeping the space warm. The Agent’s legs were back over the Doctor’s lap, bent up at the knee. 

“So, is this how you pictured Christmas this year?” Stone asked. 

Robotnik smiled warmly and thought before speaking. 

“No, not exactly,” he said honestly. 

He reached over to the discarded wrapping paper and plucked off the red shiny bow, sticking it instead on Stone’s chest. The Agent lifted his head and grinned at him. 

“It’s much better than I’d imagined,” Robotnik said, wrapping an arm around him, pulling him into a close kiss, feeling the plasticky crunch of the bow between them. 

That was true. He hadn’t ever imagined that he’d be spending Christmas in a warm, decorated condo high above the city, with a loving partner at his side. He hadn’t imagined the embraces, the conversations, the intimacy. This was better than anything he could’ve ever imagined. 

Moreover, he'd had a change of heart. Christmas had always been just another day to him, but that had changed. He could feel the trappings of change last year, through Stone's excitement, back before they'd become involved, but he hadn't dared to dwell too deeply on it. This year, cozy on a sofa in front of an electric fireplace, his contented Agent sprawled across his lap, with no plans for the foreseeable afternoon, he'd finally made up his mind. Christmas wasn't so bad, after all. 

In fact, it was quite lovely. 

“Merry Christmas,” Stone said between kisses, arms around his neck, leaning against his body. 

“Merry Christmas, Agent,” he replied quietly, unable to keep from smiling. 

**Author's Note:**

> Dear friends,  
> I hope you had a lovely holiday season, and I hope you enjoyed the soft, overly-long fic. I figured we could all use some holiday comfort this year. As always, any comments and kudos are cherished! I've got several things working right now (I spent some of my holiday downtime sifting through older, nearly-finished fics in hopes of tying up some loose ends), and I hope to have some more fun, raunchy Stobotnik up here soon!  
> On a more serious, sentimental note - 2020 was frightening and uncertain in so many ways, and writing proved to be a really helpful outlet this year more than ever. Thank you to anyone who read or wrote in this fandom, to all of you. This gave me a safe and enjoyable place to disappear to when things got tough or lonely and I am extremely grateful for that.  
> Wishing you all a lovely New Year and hoping that 2021 is kinder to us all.
> 
> Sordidly Yours, With Love,  
> Amorous Flammetta


End file.
